Pan Came Out Of The Woods One Day

Kauai

His Skin And His Hair And His Eyes Were Gray

Brooklyn, NY

The Gray Of The Moss Of Walls Were They

Washington, D.C.

And Stood In The Sun And Looked His Fill

Kauai

At Wooded Valley And Wooded Hill

Kauai

He Stood In The Zephyr, Pipes In Hand

Brooklyn, NY

On Height Of Naked Pasture Land

Brooklyn, NY

In All The Country He Did Command

Kauai

He Saw No Smoke And He Saw No Roof

Brooklyn, NY

That Was Well! And He Stamped A Hoof

New York, NY

His Heart Knew Peace, For None Came Here

Pacific Ocean

To This Lean Feeding Save Once A Year

New York, NY

Someone To Salt The Half-Wild Steer

New York, NY

Or Homespun Children With Clicking Pails

Brooklyn, NY

Who See So Little They Tell No Tales

New York, NY

He Tossed His Pipes, Too Hard To Teach

Brooklyn, NY

A New-World Song, Far Out Of Reach

Brooklyn, NY

For Sylvan Sigh That The Blue Jay's Screech

New York, NY

And The Whimper Of Hawks Beside The Sun

New York, NY

Were Music Enough For Him, For One

New York, NY

Times Were Changed From What They Were:

New York, NY

Such Pipes Kept Less Of Power To Stir

New York, NY

The Fruited Bough Of The Juniper

New York, NY

And The Fragile Bluets Clustered There

New York, NY

Than The Merest Aimless Breath Of Air

New York, NY

They Were Pipes Of Pagen Mirth

New York, NY

And The World Had Found New Terms Of Worth

New York, NY

He Laid Him Down On The Sun-Burned Earth

San Francisco, CA

And Raveled A Flower And Looked Away—

New York, NY

Play? Play? — What Should He Play?

New York, NY